


There is no love manual for robots

by whalebone



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Physical Disability, Pining, Polyamory, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Threesome - M/M/M, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-01-24 09:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21335899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalebone/pseuds/whalebone
Summary: Bodhi couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him with any kind of affection. That was all it was, he told himself. He considered himself close to the rest of Rogue One, and growing closer, but that sort of easy touch wasn’t something he could have for himself. That must be it.He was definitely not thinking about Cassian that way. And he wasdefinitelynot thinking about K-2 that way.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/K-2SO, Cassian Andor/K-2SO/Bodhi Rook
Comments: 28
Kudos: 157
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2019





	There is no love manual for robots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepilot/gifts).

> _after an_   
_evening of talking_   
_we find ourselves alone_   
_your lights hovering over me_   
_my flickering dream machine._   
_there is no love manual for robots._
> 
> \- "Beam, Robot", by Margaret Rhee
> 
> Thank you so much to Burning_Nightingale for being a fab beta!

In the dreams, the explosion didn’t hurt. 

It was, in fact, a relief. Because the explosion usually woke Bodhi up. 

He buried his face in his palms, the metal cybernetic hand cool and alien against his hot, damp skin. Tried to breathe through the panic, his heart slamming against his ribs. The ship rumbled comfortingly beneath him, around him. No explosion, no sand, no horribly bright blue skies, no Bor Gullet. 

There was no chance of getting back to sleep, he knew. He got up, dressed, and clambered awkwardly down from his berth to the ship’s galley. The _Rogue’s Hope_, as she’d been named, was a neat light freighter, and Bodhi was already very fond of her. She was a little clunky, a little battered, with plenty of repurposed bits and pieces and a cobbled together gun turret, but she was nimble, with a decent turn of speed. Much better than the ponderous cargo ships he’d flown for the Empire, or the impossibly flighty, temperamental TIE fighters he’d trained in all that time ago.

Everybody else was asleep, actually getting some rest after successfully depriving the Empire of a shipment of hyperfuel. It hadn’t quite gone smoothly, but they’d got away with minimal difficulty and, as K-2 had pointed out with sarcastic pride, only one explosion.

The droid was in the cockpit when Bodhi made his way there, clutching a cup of caf. He didn’t look up from his calculations when Bodhi slid into the co-pilot’s seat, though he did say, “You have only had three hours of sleep. That is not optimal.”

“Nope,” Bodhi agreed, sipping the caf. It had taken a long time to wean himself off the stims he’d relied on back when he’d been training to fly fighters; he couldn’t drink caf by the bucket the way Cassian did, but it would at least make his brain feel less full of bantha-wool. 

“You are not well-rested.”

“Nope,” he agreed again. “I’ve not been well-rested in a long time, Kay. It’s fine.”

The droid made a grumbling noise. “I once thought you weren’t as bad as Cassian,” he said. 

“I’m not. I eat, remember.”

“That is true. Very well, you can be slightly less frustrating than Cassian.”

“Thanks very much.” 

Bodhi tucked his good leg under him and tried to get comfortable, the caf warming him a little. He liked watching K-2 pilot the ship; the droid had used to make him nervous, setting off an instinctive fear deep in his hind-brain, but now he knew the individual behind the chassis he couldn’t imagine being afraid of him. And he was an excellent pilot, moving with a deft precision that Bodhi couldn’t hope to emulate. 

A steady calm began to rise in him as he gazed out at the expanse of space, at the endless stars, at the swirls of colour and light of glorious nebulae. No matter what had come before, he would never regret learning to fly, to be able to be out here, a tiny speck in the enormity of the galaxy.

“You had a nightmare,” K-2 said, oblivious to his moment of peace. Bodhi sighed.

“That obvious?”

“You show twelve percent more tension around your eyes and mouth when you have had a nightmare.”

How in the galaxy could he possibly calculate that? Bodhi considered asking, but decided he’d rather not know the answer. “Oh. Right.”

“Would you like to talk about it? My medical files suggest that this can be helpful.”

“No thanks, Kay.” 

“Are you sure? It is conducive to—”

“_No_. Thanks, but I’d really rather not.”

A pause. “I understand.”

“Yeah?” Bodhi rubbed a hand over his face. “Droids don’t have nightmares. Do they?”

K-2’s fans whirred a little, as though he were thinking something over. “Not in the way organics mean,” he said. “Droids do not dream. We have memory banks, and processors, and have no need for dreaming.” 

“But?”

“I simulate scenarios, to better judge chances of success or failure. Sometimes I do that when it is unnecessary, and cannot seem to stop. I create scenarios in which I fail to protect Cassian, and he is injured or killed. It is… unpleasant.”

“I bet,” Bodhi said. “I’m sorry.”

“It is frustrating and illogical.”

“Yep. Sounds like a nightmare to me.”

“How do you stop them?”

Bodhi shrugged. “Staying awake. Drinking caf. It only helps so much.”

“That is not helpful at all.”

“Sorry.” He sipped his drink, lukewarm now. “Sometimes I make myself focus on happier memories. It doesn’t always work—” Especially when all the happier memories were tinged with their own regret or sadness or trauma— “but it can make it easier to forget the bad dreams. Maybe you could try that.”

K-2’s fans picked up again. “I do have extensive memory banks.”

“Hope you have better luck with it than I do.”

They fell into silence. Bodhi set his empty mug on the dash and settled back in the chair, watching the stars slide past, listening to the hum and whir of K-2’s processors, the rumble of the ship. Let his eyes drift closed.

When he woke, a blanket had been draped over him, and Cassian was at the controls. He gave Bodhi a half-smile. “Morning.”

Bodhi blinked in confusion, trying to remember why he wasn’t in his bunk. “Hey. What—”

“Kay told me to tell you that you need to dress warmer,” said Cassian, sounding amused. “Apparently you lose body heat at a higher than average rate.”

Bodhi snorted, but he couldn’t help the warm rise in his stomach at the idea of the huge, terrifying droid tucking a blanket around him. “I’ll bear that in mind,” he said.

* * *

The next mission didn’t go entirely to plan.

“Bodhi, come on!” Jyn grabbed his arm as she sprinted past, pulling him in alongside her. He only just kept hold of the datapad, and shoved it inside his jacket as he ran. A blaster bolt smashed against the wall by Jyn’s head, scorching the metalwork, and she cursed. She shoved Bodhi ahead of her, spun and drew her own blaster in one movement. Bodhi heard two shots, two heavy thumps as the soldiers collapsed, and then Jyn was there again, urging him on.

“What happened?” he gasped as they ran.

“No idea! Something tipped them off—”

The comm in Bodhi’s ear crackled, and Cassian’s voice filtered through. “Kay, get ready for extraction – five minutes!”

“I’m glad this is all going so smoothly,” said the droid’s sardonic voice. 

“Just get the damn ship ready!”

“Yes, yes, I understand. Please don’t get shot too much.”

It was a near thing. The decommissioning facility should have been an easy enough target, and none of their intel had suggested anywhere near this level of security. Not wanting to draw even more attention to themselves, Bodhi and Jyn ducked into a doorway in an empty corridor, and finally managed to slide in behind a group of imperials. Jyn was good at this, holding herself stiffly upright, walking with the clipped precision of an Empire-trained soldier. Bodhi tried to keep a clear head and not look like he was panicking too much. He usually stayed on the ship these days, but this facility had never had an assigned KX and Kay would have drawn too much attention. So Bodhi had come along, and now he regretted it.

“Two minutes,” Cassian said over the comm, and there was something wrong with his voice. Bodhi felt Jyn tense beside him. They kept walking, sticking to the back of the group, until Jyn touched his arm and they slipped away behind a corner. They were close, now, to the facility’s back exit. There was no sign of Cassian.

The exit was clear, only a few drones whirring around the piles of scrap materials. Jyn smashed the button to open the back door, and it slid across with a ponderous rumble. Then, mercifully, they heard a familiar roar of engines as the _Rogue’s Hope_ appeared right on time. Bodhi and Jyn ran, dodging the drones, leaping over piles of scrap.

Cassian plunged out of a side door, clutching his side, blood streaming down his face. He staggered, almost fell. Without a word, both Jyn and Bodhi veered towards him; Bodhi grabbed Cassian’s arm and hauled it over his shoulders, Jyn wrapped an arm firmly around his waist, and together they managed to keep him on his feet long enough to make the final dash to the ship.

“No time,” he gasped once they were on board, trying to pull away from them both. “They might follow—”

“Kay, _go_!” yelled Jyn, scrambling towards the upper turret and the _Hope_’s gun. With Cassian in this state, she was the best shot. Bodhi dragged Cassian to the seating area and pushed him down. He was bleeding heavily from the head. The ship’s engines roared, there was a moment of horrible pressure, and the _Hope_ leapt forward into hyperspace.

“Thank the stars,” Bodhi muttered, trying to mop up the blood on Cassian’s face.

A heavy clank of footsteps. “The first jump is complete,” said K-2. “We should take a different route if we – you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Cassian muttered, batting Bodhi’s hand away. “Just a scratch. Head wounds always look worse than they are.”

K-2 made a disapproving noise and knelt down beside Bodhi, his optics whirring as he focused on Cassian’s injury. Cassian sighed, rolling his eyes. “I’m _fine_, Kay.”

“I'll decide that,” said K-2 primly, reaching for the med kit. “You are woefully incapable of accurately assessing your own injuries.”

Feeling suddenly weary, Bodhi dragged himself to his feet and headed to the cockpit to begin calculating their next jump. They’d make several jumps before heading back to base now, just in case of pursuit. As he glanced back, he saw K-2 gently brush Cassian’s hair from his forehead. It was such an unexpectedly tender gesture that something seemed to catch in Bodhi’s heart. 

He tore his gaze away, feeling as though he were intruding on something private.

Five minutes later Jyn joined him in the cockpit, sinking into the co-pilot’s seat with a groan. “They’re arguing,” she said, tearing open a protein bar and stuffing half of it in her mouth. “Honestly, they’re worse than Chirrut and Baze sometimes.” 

Bodhi laughed, and ignored the strange little sting in his stomach.

* * *

One of the things that helped with Bodhi’s nightmares, a little bit, was meditation. He had been reluctant to try, hating to spend any more time in his own head than necessary, but eventually had given in to Chirrut’s gentle persuasion. It wasn’t always a successful endeavour; sometimes he slipped too far into horrible recollections, clawing his way back out in a panic. Other times he seemed to fall into the empty cracks between his memories, a horrible, gaping blankness where his life used to be. Chirrut was good at drawing him back to the real world after these episodes, his voice gentle and warm and grounding, but it always left Bodhi feeling shaken and panicky.

This time, though, he came back feeling settled. Calm. Like he’d just set the _Hope_ down in a perfect landing. Chirrut hummed in approval, his face breaking into a sunny smile.

“I think I’m finally getting the hang of this,” said Bodhi, rolling his shoulders.

“You put too much pressure on yourself,” Chirrut scolded lightly. “This is a practice that can take many years, even in times of peace. You are doing well.”

It was a little embarrassing, how even the slightest praise made him blush.

“The Force,” Chirrut continued, “flows through all living things. _That which surrounds us, binds us. In our connection to one, all is connected._ When you feel adrift, Bodhi, remember that you are connected to everything and everyone through the Force. To me, to Jyn, to Cassian, to the worlds you visit, the stars around us, everything.”

It was both comforting and overwhelming all at once, and Bodhi never really knew how to respond when Chirrut started talking like this. His mother had taken them to the Temple of the Whills when he was young, and he had believed in the Force in a vague and undefined way – as did most people of Jedha – but the actual _belief_ was more difficult to grasp onto. But still, it was… reassuring, to think of that connection between him and others. With all of Rogue One.

“Can I ask you something?” Bodhi said as they made their way through the corridors of _Home One_ to the mess hall. Chirrut tilted his head towards him, in the way Bodhi had learnt meant that he was listening. “So, the Force connects all living beings, and when we die we… become part of the Force. What about droids? Are they part of it?”

Chirrut hummed thoughtfully. “I never had much to do with droids, before,” he said. “But certainly many of them seem just as alive as organic beings. Our tall friend, he has a far greater personality than many organics I could name! So perhaps the Force would be a part of him just as much as it is for me or you. Who can say?”

It wasn’t an entirely satisfactory answer, but Bodhi felt oddly better for hearing it. When he joined Cassian and K-2 on board the _Hope_ the following day, he gave K-2’s chestplate a friendly pat as he passed.

“You have had adequate sleep for once,” K-2 said in approval. “Cassian, you should learn from Bodhi.”

“Why?” said Cassian, dumping his kitbag on the deck. Despite his stern tone, there was a slightly creased smile on his face. “You’d hate not being able to fuss over me. Now go and set the coordinates.”

* * *

Bodhi had almost forgotten the way K-2 had brushed Cassian’s hair from his face, until he saw him do it again. He had been at the ship’s controls, alone, and had set it to autopilot so he could use the ‘fresher. Cassian and K-2 were in the galley, going over a series of schematics of the Imperial facility they were going to infiltrate.

At least, Bodhi had assumed they were. He reached the door of the galley and found them sitting with their heads bent close together, K-2’s huge hand gently pushing Cassian’s hair back, fingers threading between the strands. Cassian’s shoulders relaxed, minutely. Then it was over, and Cassian began pointing out potential weak points in the building plans displayed on his holo. Neither of them seemed to notice Bodhi.

Back at the controls, Bodhi tried to ignore that odd tugging at his heart. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him with any kind of affection. That was all it was, he told himself. He considered himself close to the rest of Rogue One, and growing closer, but that sort of easy touch wasn’t something he could have for himself. That must be it. 

Did he want that with Cassian, he wondered, not for the first time. If he were to run his fingers through Cassian’s thick, soft hair, would he relax a little, smile slightly? Could Bodhi be someone who made Cassian feel that way?

He gritted his teeth, pushing the thought down mercilessly. The last thing he needed was to make his new friendships more difficult with ideas like that. He dragged his hand through his own unruly hair, and definitely didn’t wonder what it would feel like to have strong, precise durasteel fingers do the same thing.

* * *

“How,” said Cassian, slumping down next to Bodhi, “did you get so good at sabacc?” _Home One_’s cantina was quieter now, and Bodhi was too drunk to go to bed just yet. He had played several rounds of sabacc, and even though there were no credits at stake the old thrill had still made him drink slightly more than was wise. Though not as much as Cassian, it seemed. Or Jyn, who was curled up asleep in a corner. Her fingers were wrapped around the haft of her baton, so no one dared wake her.

Bodhi felt himself blush at Cassian’s compliment, which was stupid. “Part of a pile of bad choices when I was younger,” he said. “Got arrested for gambling once, back ho— back on Jedha. Should have called it way earlier than I did, but I was trying to impress someone.”

“Did it work?” Cassian was almost, actually smiling, his dark eyes warm. 

“Nope. He was _not_ interested.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh and took another sip of his drink, in an attempt to cover his flush. “I got a lot of sabacc practice, though. I’m pretty good at, y’know, reading people’s tells and things. Not as good as you.”

Cassian shrugged. “S’different,” he said. “You can read me better’n most, though. I’d say you should be a spy, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“I prefer piloting, thanks.”

“Glad you’re our pilot.” Stars, how drunk _was_ he? “I ever tell you that?”

“Um.”

“I should. Wouldn’t have got off Scarif without you, Bodhi.” He was very close, his face inches away, his expression surprisingly gentle and open. He moved as though to touch Bodhi’s face, then suddenly leant sideways, letting his head drift onto Bodhi’s shoulder. He was very warm. “Never really trusted anyone before, not properly,” he said, so quietly that Bodhi almost didn’t hear him. “Except Kay. But you and Jyn and Baze and Chirrut – ‘s weird, having so many people.”

“I trust you too,” said Bodhi, surprised by how true that was. “You didn’t have to trust me.” Cassian’s hair tickled his cheek. He smelt of booze and soap and something like machine oil. 

“The Empire chews people up,” said Cassian. “Lots of people get pulled in. Not many people choose to leave.”

Would Bodhi have chosen, were it not for Galen? Would he have continued to choose, were it not for Jyn, or Cassian? Or would he have cut and run? He didn’t know the answer, and shame crept up his spine. Cassian sighed, his head still resting on Bodhi’s shoulder. Hesitating for a moment, Bodhi leant his cheek against Cassian’s hair. 

Bodhi drifted a little in a drunken haze, warm with alcohol and Cassian’s body heat, trying to focus on that and not his memories. K-2 found them like that, and despite his immobile face there was somehow something disapproving in his expression. 

“You are inebriated,” he told Cassian. 

“Mm hm. Sure am.”

The droid sighed, which was impressive considering he had no lungs. “At least you do not appear to be maudlin this time.” He stepped closer. Cassian didn’t move, just turned his head further into Bodhi’s shoulder. “Your heart rate and body temperature are increased.” When Cassian just grumbled, K-2 made a long-suffering noise. “You should sleep, you have a meeting with Senator Mothma tomorrow morning.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Cassian sat up, and Bodhi was suddenly cold. K-2 hauled him to his feet. “See you later, Bodhi. Good game.”

“Yeah, sure. Night, Cassian.”

“You should also sleep,” K-2 told him bluntly. “I can make you go to bed too, if you like.”

“Pretty sure Bodhi can put himself to bed.” Cassian patted K-2’s chest, and for some reason his words made Bodhi’s stomach tight. 

“Unlike you, you mean. Good night, Bodhi.”

When they were gone, Cassian weaving slightly until K-2 grabbed his upper arm to steady him, Bodhi sank down into the sofa with a groan. It would be nice, he thought glumly, to have someone to go to bed with, to curl up with warm and close. Maybe he wouldn’t have nightmares.

In bed, later, he could still smell Cassian’s hair. In his dream, he dared to lean down and kiss him. Dream Cassian kissed him back, very slow and gentle, his lips soft. When he touched Bodhi's face, his hands were made of cool metal.

* * *

It hadn’t taken long for the Rebellion to realise that Bodhi had a knack with machinery and technology. When he wasn’t piloting for Rogue One’s missions, he was usually somewhere in the hangar bay getting his hands dirty as he fixed up busted ships or malfunctioning droids. He enjoyed it; his mind felt easier when he had something to do, something to fix.

The stump of his leg had been aching lately, so he sat on the deck in an out-of-the-way corner with the prosthetic limb stretched out in front of him, steadily working through a pile of scrap that needed to be broken up into parts for repurposing. He wasn’t as quick at this as he had been, his cybernetic arm still unfamiliar, something in it a little stiff, but his control was slowly getting better. The noise of the hangar faded into the background, and he couldn’t have said how long he’d been there when familiar, heavy footsteps drew near.

“Hey, K-2,” he said without looking up from the wires he was stripping. “What’s up?”

“Do you need assistance?”

Bodhi peered up at him. Something about the droid’s stance suggested tension, his optics shifting back-and-forth. “Sure, if you want to help.” He shifted around a little. K-2 folded himself onto the deck beside him and reached for the remnant of a comm unit.

For a while they worked in companionable silence, though Bodhi was very aware of the occasional whirring coming from K-2, a sound that suggested the droid was thinking something through. 

“Where’s Cassian?” Bodhi asked, trying to remember when he’d last seen him.

K-2’s fingers twitched. “Draven had a mission for him. He left yesterday. My presence was not required.”

“Huh.” Bodhi reached for the next thing in the scrap pile, a broken antenna from an astromech. K-2 had gone on all of Cassian’s missions during the months Bodhi had known them. “How come?”

“He is undercover,” said the droid shortly. 

“And you’re worried about him,” Bodhi guessed. 

“He insists on injuring himself on most missions,” K-2 groused, “and even more so when I am not there. He is very reckless.”

Bodhi reached out and patted K-2’s arm, prosthetic hand clunking against the plating. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he said, though a frisson of anxiety had gone up his spine. Cassian was a professional, he told himself firmly. He knew what he was doing. He would be fine.

“I would feel more certain of that if I were there.”

“Yeah, I bet. Well, you can keep me company til he gets back, if you like.”

That thoughtful whirring noise again. “That sounds acceptable.”

Bodhi laughed. _Acceptable_. That was high praise from K-2. “How long have you worked with Cassian?”

“He re-programmed me fifteen years, seven months, and thirteen standard days ago.”

He’d probably be able to give Bodhi the hours, minutes, and seconds as well. “Wow. He must have been young.”

“By human standards.”

“And he already knew how to reprogramme an Imperial security droid?” Bodhi picked up a vibrospanner, a little clumsy still. “I mean, I’m pretty good with droids, but I definitely couldn’t do that.”

“You are assuming that he did a great deal of work on me. Cassian stripped out my obedience protocols, and installed learning algorithms. It was not an especially complicated procedure.”

_That_ was a little surprising. Bodhi had assumed that Cassian had reworked a lot of K-2’s code to remove the threat of his Imperial programming. “That’s all?”

The droid equivalent of a shrug. “The techs here regularly submit suggestions for improving my programming. Cassian does not approve any of it.” He sounded, somehow, smug.

“I bet he doesn’t,” Bodhi grinned. He’d already witnessed Cassian’s withering disapproval of anybody who treated Kay as anything other than totally sentient and self-aware. 

“Cassian thinks you are a good friend,” said K-2, suddenly. “He does not usually make friends. It is beneficial for him.”

“Oh.” Bodhi felt a flush creeping up his neck. “Well. That’s great. I – think he’s a good friend too. And you. All of Rogue One, really.” Cassian liked him. He tried not to think about how that made something twist pleasantly in his stomach.

“What was it like?” he asked, to change the subject away from his liking of Cassian. Or anyone. “When Cassian reprogrammed you, I mean. Do you remember before?” 

For a moment he thought he had offended K-2, for the droid paused in his dismantling of a servogrip pincer, and he began to apologise before K-2 spoke. “I do not ‘remember’ in the way you mean,” he said, returning to his task, not looking at Bodhi. “K-2SO did not exist then, in the way that I exist now. But I have some data in my memory banks, which I can recall if necessary.”

Bodhi bit his lip. “Does that bother you? That who you were before was… wiped away?” He tried to keep his voice calm. He woke up at least once a week with no memory of the last six months, lost and flailing in the void where everything should be, where it _had_ been, before Saw Gerrera, and Bor Gullet. To have his very self erased, permanently…

“No,” said K-2, very firmly. “That K-2SO did not truly exist. He had no thoughts of his own. He could not make choices. He could not learn. He was datamined and wiped regularly. It is not preferable to who I am now.”

How much of a choice had he had, to join the Rebellion? Bodhi wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. Besides, what choice was there? Keep your new-found individuality and work with the Rebellion, or… what? A KX droid couldn’t exactly gallivant off into the galaxy on their own. The Empire would have caught and reprogrammed him without a thought. 

Just like Bodhi, really. He stayed with the Rebellion because he believed in it, because he wanted to help, because he wanted to make amends for his terrible choices… and also because he was still a wanted man, and if the Empire found him the only outcome was interrogation and death. His hands shook.

“I definitely prefer you now,” he said, trying to steer his thoughts away from that dark pit.

K-2 tilted his head. “I am sure I prefer you now, as well,” he said, and Bodhi laughed.

* * *

K-2, it seemed, often caused trouble on base when Cassian was on missions, so Bodhi tried to keep him occupied, recruiting him to help repair some ships and a couple of astromechs, asking him to play sabacc (and snapping at the pair of pilots who didn’t want to play with a droid, because dammit they weren’t exactly playing for credits here), asking for his help in drawing up mission reports that he was late submitting. 

Before, he would have just said that Kay causing trouble was just him being ornery and contrary, only inclined to listen to Cassian, but now he saw that at least part of it was an outlet for his dreadful anxiety for Cassian’s welfare. He tried to keep K-2’s mind off it as much as possible, but sometimes the droid seemed to get stuck in a horrible cycle where he simulated all of the terrible things that might have happened to Cassian. It hurt Bodhi’s heart to know that previously he’d just dealt with this by himself, with no one to try and reassure him.

Bodhi tried not to think about those things. About Cassian being injured, bleeding out by himself. About him being caught, hauled off for interrogation. About Cassian being killed. Cassian was fine. He would be fine. He knew what he was doing.

“Cassian’s survived one hundred percent of his missions,” he said firmly, as he and K-2 tried to fix a mangled X-wing engine, K-2 fretting over the statistical likelihood of Cassian being discovered. “Even Scarif. _None_ of us should have survived Scarif, but we did.”

He expected K-2 to retort with some terrible statistic about the amount of times Cassian had _almost_ died, but instead he whirred thoughtfully. “That is true.”

“Good. He’ll come back.” Cassian was meant to be back tomorrow, and Bodhi felt a little flutter of pleasant anxiety in his chest when he thought about it. “Can you pass me the— oh, _kriff_.” The vibrospanner fell into the engine with a horrible clatter, and Bodhi swore furiously. “Bloody hand,” he groused, trying to reach for the spanner where it was caught against a gear.

“Let me,” said K-2 patiently. His long arm reached easily down into the guts of the engine and retrieved the tool. “Your hand is not functioning correctly.”

Bodhi ducked his head, gritting his teeth. “No. It keeps seizing. Something’s misaligned.”

“The medtechs would—”

He shook his head violently. He hated anyone prodding around in his arm, phantom pain mixed up with confused memories and nightmares. He’d tried to fix it himself, but it was difficult to do one-handed.

“Alright,” said Kay. “I can help, if you prefer.”

Bodhi glanced up at him. Somehow, the idea of Kay fixing his arm didn’t send the same panicky spiral through his chest. “Are you sure?”

“I would not have offered otherwise.” The droid turned his attention back to the engine. “I understand. I do not like anyone other than Cassian performing maintenance on me.”

Later, in Bodhi’s quarters, he watched nervously as K-2 studied his arm, his optics clicking as they magnified. The droid was extremely gentle as he cradled the arm, big hands uncannily dexterous as he picked up a screwdriver. 

“You are right. The orbital is misaligned.”

“Can you fix it?” His heart was pounding too fast, his real hand clammy. Sweat trickled down his spine. He cut his eyes away so he wouldn’t have to look at the work being done on his arm. 

“Yes. There is a ninety-seven percent chance that I can return it to full movement capacity.”

“Okay. Okay, good. Thanks.” He closed his eyes, concentrated on breathing in and out as steadily as possible. Clenched and unclenched his organic hand. He was safe, he trusted Kay with this completely, nothing bad was happening.

“There,” said Kay, satisfaction in his voice. “Try that.”

Taking a shaky breath, Bodhi closed and opened the cybernetic fingers. Picked up the screwdriver and twirled it neatly. There was no stickiness, no catch in the joint, everything moving smoothly. “That’s great,” he said, trying to smile through the vestiges of panic. “Thanks, Kay.”

“You’re welcome.” K-2, knelt in front of him, tilted his head. “You are distressed. Maintenance on your arm should not cause you pain.”

“No. It – no, it didn’t hurt. Just – messes with my head still.”

“Ah. It takes organics time to accept new limbs as their own.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re – not wired to have modular bodies.”

“You are not wired at all,” K-2 pointed out, and Bodhi gave a shaky laugh, sweeping a hand over his eyes. 

“Kriff, I’m sorry. Thanks for helping me.”

He wanted Kay to leave so he could have a quiet panic attack by himself, but the droid was watching him carefully, clearly categorising everything about Bodhi’s reactions. He resisted the urge to curl up in a ball. Screwed his eyes shut instead.

When Kay touched his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin. The cool metal hand reached back, curled around the back of his head, fingers in his hair. For a fleeting moment Bodhi considered the fact that Kay would be perfectly capable of crushing his skull. “Bodhi,” Kay said, oddly kind. “You are not in any danger.”

_I know_, he wanted to snap in frustration, but the words wouldn’t come out. Kay tugged him closer with surprising gentleness, and he found his forehead pressed against the cool curve of the droid’s skull casing. His glowing optics were very bright this close. Kay’s hand was a steady, comforting pressure around the back of Bodhi’s head.

“Breathe in,” said the droid, no judgement in his voice, just a calm instruction. “Good. And breathe out, slowly. Breathe in.” How did K-2 know how to do this? Was it in his seemingly extensive medical files? Did he need to help Cassian in the same way? 

Slowly, slowly, Bodhi’s breathing settled back to normal, and his hand stopped shaking. He pulled away from Kay, and the droid let him go. “Thanks,” he said, shamefaced. “Sorry about that.”

“There is no need to apologise,” said Kay primly, levering himself to his feet and staring down at him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely. Thanks, Kay.”

* * *

Cassian’s shuttle landed three hours late. 

It had been getting more and more difficult to keep K-2 occupied, and as soon as the hangar bay doors began to creak open the droid stepped away from the broken X-Wing. Bodhi’s heart rose as the shuttle appeared, looking none the worse for wear, and set down his own tools to follow Kay.

The ramp lowered, and Cassian stumbled down into the hangar; he looked pale and exhausted, but not obviously injured. Warm relief swept through Bodhi’s chest, and he breathed out hard. Cassian brushed off a tech with a quick word, looking around. When he spotted K-2 coming towards him, a small smile wavered across his drawn face.

“You have not slept,” said Kay, by way of greeting.

“No,” agreed Cassian. “I did eat, though.”

“Hm. You’re not injured?”

“Bruises. Nothing else.” When Kay made a disbelieving little noise, Cassian’s tired smile grew a little. He hadn’t spotted Bodhi yet. Nobody else was paying attention, the techs too busy going over the ship. Cassian caught K-2’s hand in his, briefly linked their fingers together. “I promise. I was very careful.” His thumb brushed lightly over the ridge of K-2’s knuckles. Then, just as quickly as it had happened, he let go. “And I promise I’m going to sleep as soon as I’ve spoken to Draven.”

“I shall make sure of it,” said K-2, drawing himself up. “This is why I should go on missions with you, Cassian.”

“You’ve not pissed anyone off while I was away?”

Bodhi stepped forward. “He’s been helping me,” he said, glad that his voice came out normal. “And worrying about you.”

Cassian gave Bodhi such a warm look that it turned his stomach over. He tried to smile back, and not flinch when Cassian patted him gently on the shoulder. “Thanks. Good to see you, Bodhi.”

* * *

Tiredness was tugging at Bodhi’s eyes. Surely K-2 was back up-and-running now? The ion blast had knocked out a lot of the droid's systems, and it had been a scramble to get him safely on the ship and away. Bodhi had left Cassian frantically trying to bring K-2 back online so he could fly them out of this system. That was a good few hours ago now, and Bodhi really needed Kay to take over so he could get some sleep.

Putting the ship into autopilot, Bodhi headed back into the empty living area. He frowned. Had the damage to K-2 been more extensive than he’d realised? Maybe Cassian needed a hand fixing him up. 

He heard the hum of voices as he headed towards the ladder leading down to the cargo hold, both Cassian’s and Kay’s. Well, if K-2 was talking that was a good sign, at least. Just as he was about to call down and ask if they were alright, he heard Kay’s voice, oddly crackly, say, “Oh, Cassian – _yes_—”

He had never, ever heard K-2 sound like that before. So… desperate. What the kriff was going on? Feeling a little guilty and a lot curious, he edged closer, creeping down the ladder to the darkened hold.

“Ssh,” Cassian said. “Turn it down, or everyone’s gonna hear.”

“That’s your fault,” K-2 complained, but his voice still had that strange fuzziness. “Please, Cassian, do that again…” His voice trailed off into a little whine.

“Love having you like this,” Cassian was murmuring, his voice dark and rough, and all at once Bodhi realised what was going on. His mind reeled. 

He’d heard rumours, of course, and there was all sorts of weird holoporn for people with a thing for non-pleasure droids, but _Cassian?_ And _K-2?_

Suddenly all of those little touches made sense.

He should leave. He wasn’t meant to know about this. But he thought about the gentle way K-2 touched Cassian, and how carefully Cassian took care of the droid. Thought about K-2’s big hand cradling his own head. About Cassian’s warm weight against him. His heart was beating very fast all of a sudden.

Ignoring the sensible part of his mind that was telling him to leave, Bodhi crept a little further into the cargo hold, where he was hidden by a stack of crates. K-2 was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bulkhead, a shirtless Cassian straddling his lap. Bodhi swallowed, his mouth very dry, as K-2’s long fingers stroked a path up Cassian’s spine, dark against his bare skin. He half-expected them to know he was there, but they seemed to be completely absorbed in one another. 

“_Cassian_,” Kay said again, and Cassian laughed softly.

“Like this?” he murmured, and Bodhi saw that one of the access hatches in K-2’s chest was open, exposing all his wiring, and Cassian had one hand buried inside. Whatever he was doing was working, because Kay was making odd, staticky noises, his optics flickering. One long, metal arm wrapped tight about Cassian’s waist. His other hand tangled in Cassian’s hair, until Cassian dragged it down and began to kiss Kay’s fingers. 

That seemed to be almost too much for K-2. His movement was jerky as he tugged at Cassian’s trousers one-handed, until Cassian had to help him out. 

Stars. Bodhi knew he needed to leave, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Cassian groaned as Kay wrapped his massive hand around his hard cock, and pressed two fingers of his other hand into Cassian’s mouth. Dark eyes fluttered shut as he sucked, cheeks hollowing, and then Kay was moaning his name. They moved together so perfectly, Kay’s hands on Cassian and Cassian’s hands inside Kay’s wiring, drawing desperate, needy noises from him. 

What the hell was Bodhi doing, spying on them like this? He retreated hastily, as quietly as possible, back up the ladder to the cockpit. He slumped back into the pilot's seat, breathing hard, his mind full of what he'd seen. 

Bodhi had never liked how the galaxy as a whole treated droids, and one of the things he'd always liked best about Cassian was how he so obviously saw Kay as a real person. But this? This was so far beyond whatever he could have imagined. Kay had obviously wanted it just as much as Cassian though, he had practically been begging… had Cassian programmed him to want that? Somehow Bodhi couldn't believe it of him, but if you'd asked him yesterday he would never have believed that Cassian and Kay were more than friends.

_Kay's hand around Cassian's cock, long fingers in Cassian's mouth, Cassian kissing and sucking them so hungrily…_

Bodhi shook his head, hard. Gave his body a mental talking to, because reacting to this was _not_ helpful, thank you very much. He'd seen something he wasn't meant to see. He had to bury it, lock it down, keep it secret. It had just been… a long time, since Bodhi had been with anybody. And he’d _never_ been with anybody he could have trusted so completely. That was all.

By the time K-2 appeared in the cockpit, Bodhi had got himself under control. He barely even blushed, though he carefully avoided looking at K-2’s hands as he took over the controls.

* * *

He watched Cassian and Kay carefully over the next few weeks. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining the way their hands sometimes lingered when they passed something over; the way Cassian stroked over Kay’s plating after giving him a friendly pat on the chest; the way they sometimes just looked at one another, as though not quite able to look away. He doubted anyone else spotted anything out of the ordinary, but then nobody else knew what he did. Or spent quite as much time with the pair of them.

The next mission ended at a miserable place in the Outer Rim. Jyn was grounded, following a recent skirmish when a blaster bolt to the shoulder had broken her collarbone. The Guardians spent most of their time training new field operatives these days, so it was just Bodhi, Cassian and K-2. 

The small moon was cold, and wet, and mostly uninhabited. It had once been a mining colony, until the Empire had stripped the place bare. They didn’t bother with it now, which was why it was useful as a drop-point. They were going to drop off a datachip with an unknown operative, and then leave. Simple, and easy.

Except for the part where Cassian and Bodhi had to trek for hours along a narrow path, huge cliffs rearing up on either side before falling away as they got closer to the old mines. It was bitterly cold and pouring with rain, and soon they were up to their ankles in sticky red mud. K-2 had elected to stay and guard the ship, pointing out – with no small amount of smugness – that all that mud would impair his functions should it get into his joints.

“Impairing _my_ bloody functions,” Bodhi muttered, once again almost losing a boot when it became stuck in the sucking bog. His prosthetic foot was just as good as his real one at gripping and adapting to the wet ground, but his knee was already starting to ache.

"Trust me, it could be worse," said Cassian, which was oddly optimistic for him. He'd pulled his hood up, and seemed much more able to pick out the stable ground than Bodhi was.

"Yeah? I'm from a desert moon. It only rained once a year. I'm not built for this."

Cassian gave him a sharp grin.

They were drenched and frozen by the time they reached the ramshackle, run-down village that was all that remained of a once-busy mining town. Bodhi waited just outside town, peering through the rain for anyone who might approach, hand closed around a blaster he hoped he wouldn't have to use. Baze had given him a series of very patient target practice lessons, but Bodhi still wouldn’t describe himself as even a passable shot. Rainwater streamed down his face despite the hood, and he shifted from foot to foot, trying to warm up. Cassian only took fifteen minutes to make the drop, but it felt like eternity.

On the way back to the ship, a storm rolled in. At first it just meant heavier rain and low, rumbling thunder, but it quickly turned into a downpour of hailstones the size of jogan fruit. Bodhi threw his arms over his head to try and shield himself, but the hail was soon coming down so hard that he couldn’t see two feet in front of his own face. It was like trying to walk through a damned asteroid field. Cassian, just ahead of him, was barely visible and struggling through the sudden, viciously cold wind.

Lightning cleaved the darkening sky. Bodhi flinched.

“We should find shelter!” Cassian yelled, the wind whipping his words away almost as soon as they left his mouth. The rain and hail had started to fall so fast that they were wading through water, their boots soaked, the mud underneath grasping and treacherous. They probably had another two hours of walking before they reached the ship, and if this hail kept up they’d both have severe concussion before long. Bodhi found himself wishing desperately for a speeder, but it had been deemed far too conspicuous.

Most of the mining town had been abandoned, and the clusters of buildings had fallen into disrepair and ruin. A lot of the shacks appeared to have been cannibalised for the benefit of the small settlement that still existed, the roofs and doors ripped off leaving them open to the elements. But there were a couple that would offer at least some shelter, and Cassian veered off towards one of them.

The place smelt terrible, of damp and mould and all manner of rotting things. The roof was leaking, the hail making a cacophonous noise as it impacted against the old metal, the windows rattling in the high wind. But it was shelter, and Bodhi immediately felt warmer for being out of the wind.

“I guess we’ll hole up here for a bit,” said Cassian grimly, having to raise his voice over the noise. “Keep your blaster ready. I’ll comm Kay and let him know.”

This mission was meant to be quick and simple, so they didn’t have a huge amount in the way of supplies, but Cassian still had a basic survival kit in his pack. There was a small, ceramic portable heater that generated a surprising amount of warmth, provided they huddled close to it. Water, some rations. And, best of all, dry socks.

“How long d’you think this’ll last?” Bodhi asked, chewing on a boring nutrient bar. 

“Hopefully not long.” Cassian had his blaster in his lap, his eyes fixed on the door. Despite the heating unit, he was shivering, his clothes soaked. “We don’t want to be stuck here overnight.”

Bodhi shuddered. “Maybe Kay can pick us up,” he said doubtfully. They had left the ship a decent distance away to avoid too much attention, and because it was the most open ground to land on. 

“Maybe. He’ll be going out of his circuits with boredom by now.” Cassian’s teeth were chattering. Bodhi shifted closer, pressing their shoulders together. They didn’t speak for long moments, just leant against one another. Slowly the heat from the ceramic unit seemed to seep into Bodhi’s skin, and he felt Cassian begin to relax a little.

“Not long ago it would have just been me here,” said Cassian after a while. “It’s nicer, freezing with someone else.”

Bodhi laughed shakily. “Happy to help, I guess.” Outside, a huge thunderclap and blast of lightning, and he flinched, hard. 

“Bodhi?”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Sudden noises, you know. Bit pathetic.”

“Not at all.” Cassian pressed closer, his knee tucked against Bodhi’s. Another point of warmth. Bodhi’s stomach turned over, a little bite of longing in his chest. “I get it, don’t worry.”

“You never seem afraid of anything.” He knew it wasn’t true, knew that Cassian buried a lot of things under that spy’s mask, but he still couldn’t imagine Cassian jumping at loud noises.

“I don’t seem it,” Cassian said. “Doesn’t mean I’m not, though.”

Bodhi turned to look at him, and found himself almost nose-to-nose with Cassian. He could see a faint scar above his eyebrow. His hair was starting to dry, sticking up at the back. 

When Bodhi kissed him, his lips were cool.

It took maybe half a second for reality to kick back in. Bodhi pulled away, practically throwing himself back from Cassian, barely able to look at the surprise on his face. “Kriff,” he said hopelessly. “Cassian, I – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

Cassian had his fingers against his lips. Bodhi remembered how those fingers had tangled with K-2’s, how they’d buried deep in the droid’s circuitry, and guilt burnt in his gut. Outside, the hail had ceased, and the sudden quiet was deafening.

“It’s alright,” said Cassian, and he didn’t sound angry, or upset. “Bodhi, it’s okay.”

“No.” Bodhi shook his head. “No, it’s – I shouldn’t – I mean, I know you’re…”

The gentle understanding faded from Cassian’s face, and his mask came back. “I’m… what?”

“I know you’re with Kay,” Bodhi blurted out. Cassian would be furious, probably, but he couldn’t lie. The mask slipped, briefly, and he saw something deeper flash in Cassian’s eyes. Something like fear. His stomach was being stitched into horrible knots. “It’s okay,” he said hurriedly. “I don’t care, that’s not what I – I just shouldn't have kissed you, not when—”

“How do you know?” Cassian’s voice was blank. Careful.

“I – on the way home from Rishi, on the ship. I saw you. After Kay got knocked offline, I went to see if you needed help and I – I saw you together.”

Cassian’s eyes had gone flat, like dark glass. 

“I don’t care! I’ve not told anyone, and I never will, I swear. You’re my friends, I—”

“You swear?” Quick as a wink, Cassian reached across the distance between them and grabbed Bodhi’s wrist in a tight grip, on the edge of painful. “You won’t tell _anyone_?”

“Of course not…”

“Because I don’t give a bantha-shit about me. But if the Alliance, if _anyone_ finds out, they’ll reprogramme Kay. Or scrap him completely.”

Bodhi’s heart lurched, and he swallowed. “I swear, Cassian. I wouldn’t ever do that to Kay. Or to you.”

Cassian studied him for a moment, as though he could read Bodhi’s intentions in his skin. Then he gave a huge, shuddering breath, released Bodhi’s wrist, and ran a hand over his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Bodhi whispered. “Maybe I should have told you I knew, before. But it seemed easier just to… keep it secret. And I’m sorry I kissed you.”

Cassian let his hand fall away. “Because of Kay and me? Because I’m the kind of person who’s with a droid?” His voice was flat and cold with bitterness.

“What? No, of cour—”

“Because I know what people would say about me. I’m a Seppie, after all.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Bodhi snapped, suddenly annoyed. That wasn’t fair at all. “Why would you think I’d think that? K-2’s my friend, just as much as you, or Jyn, or anyone. So long as he’s choosing this, that’s all that matters. And I don’t think Kay would do anything he’s not chosen to do.”

Cassian laughed, though there wasn’t much humour in it. “No. I worried about that too, at first. That I’d somehow… programmed him, to feel like he does. He’s got very strong opinions about that.”

“I bet he does.” Bodhi reached out, touched Cassian’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I kissed you because you’re with someone else. That’s all.”

He met Cassian’s gaze, and saw the moment Cassian believed him. A small smile flickered across his face, and he nodded. “Thanks, Bodhi.” He breathed out, hard. Glanced at the window. “I think it’s easing up. We should go.”

Bodhi nodded, smiling, hoping the guilt and longing didn’t show too obviously on his face.

* * *

Despite Cassian’s assurances that it was fine, and despite his seeming acceptance that Bodhi wasn’t about to spill his secret, things changed. Bodhi supposed it was inevitable; Cassian knew that Bodhi had broken his trust, and he knew that Bodhi had... feelings for him. No wonder he was pulling away.

Bodhi let him, not wanting to push, though he missed Cassian’s company. It was a mental ache, like a missing tooth he couldn’t stop pressing against. Or another missing limb, he thought grimly. 

He took to spending even more time in the hangar bay, covered in engine grease and machine oil, refusing to let himself think about things. He tried to avoid Chirrut’s attempts to bring him back to meditation, and ended up agreeing to learn some hand-to-hand combat with him and Baze instead. Jyn joined them, and while Bodhi was soon more bruised and aching than he’d been since his recovery from Scarif, it quieted his mind a little. 

The others obviously noticed his preoccupation, and Chirrut kept trying to draw him out. It was mortifying, frankly; everyone obviously assumed it was another aspect of his complex group of traumas and phobias, and he didn’t much want to admit that it was just embarrassing interpersonal problems.

When he saw Cassian, he was much the same as he ever was, if slightly more reserved, but Bodhi kept his distance. K-2 didn’t join him in the hangar any more, and that stung more than he had thought it would, missing the droid’s sardonic comments and steady company. Cassian would obviously have told Kay that Bodhi knew, so maybe Kay had decided not to trust him any more. 

Bodhi missed them both, but it was his fault that they weren’t close any more, so he just had to deal with it.

It was a relief when the two of them went on a mission. Bodhi didn’t volunteer to go, and he wasn’t asked, so he stayed behind.

* * *

K-2 found him a week later, when he was lying on his back and working on the underside of a speeder.

“Bodhi. I want to talk to you.”

A series of horrible possibilities darted across Bodhi’s mind. He tried to school his face into a neutral expression before pushing himself out from under the speeder, shoving his goggles up into his hair. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice too tense to be casual.

K-2 was looming over him, and it wasn’t hard to imagine him lifting Bodhi bodily off the ground and snapping his neck. “You are being ridiculous,” the droid said, and Bodhi blinked.

“I’m what?”

“You are just as bad as Cassian. I had hoped that you would talk to one another of your own accord, but apparently that is too much to ask. It is ludicrous that _I_ need to intervene. Why do organics make things unnecessarily complicated?”

“Right. I don’t—” A horrible warm flush was creeping up Bodhi’s neck. He scrambled to his feet, to try and feel less like a bug about to be squashed. It only helped a little. “Look, I – I understand why Cassian wants to keep his distance, okay?”

K-2 leaned towards him a bit, and Bodhi fought the urge to take a step back. “But Cassian is not angry with you,” he said, sounding confused. “Or upset. He does not think you did anything wrong.”

“And what about _you_?” Bodhi hissed, keeping his voice down. No one seemed to be paying them any attention, thankfully. 

K-2 cocked his head. “Me?”

“I kissed him. And he’s – with you.”

“Organics are _so_ frustrating,” K-2 grumbled. “I had this exact conversation with Cassian, do you know that? For months now he’s been reacting to you and pretending otherwise. His heart rate elevates whenever you touch him, and yours does the same for him. I do not have as much of a baseline for you, as yours also spikes when _I_ touch you, so perhaps it is more of a fear response, but I know Cassian. He experiences attraction for you, Bodhi, and clearly you feel the same for him.”

Whatever Bodhi had expected out of this conversation, this wasn’t it. His brain was frantically trying to keep up with everything K-2 was saying. “But… you and him…”

“Yes, I am aware that we are together, Bodhi. _Very_ aware. I think it would be beneficial for you and Cassian to discuss this and come to some sort of understanding.”

Bodhi’s heart was slamming against his ribs. Kay was watching him, perhaps studying all of his vital signs. He’d been noticing Bodhi’s reactions to Cassian, for all this time. And, apparently, Cassian’s reactions to him? And – a thrill of anxiety in his stomach as he thought of it – his reactions to Kay himself? Because… kriff, he’d barely realised, but it had been there, hadn’t it? All his vague fantasies of Cassian, kissing him and touching him, all tangled up in longing for clever, metal hands on his skin.

K-2 was still watching him, and Bodhi forced down a hysterical laugh. Of course, he couldn’t have done this the simplest way. He couldn’t have developed a stupid crush on one, available person. That would have been way too easy.

“What does Cassian think about this?” he asked slowly.

“I have told him the exact same thing. I hope that if I tell _both_ of you, then one of you might actually do something about it.” K-2 turned away.

“Right,” said Bodhi faintly. Ran a hand down his face, realising too late that it was covered in engine oil. “Um. Kay?”

“Yes?”

“I – I think you know more about my baseline data than you realise.”

Face burning, Bodhi turned back to the speeder, very aware of K-2’s gaze on him.

* * *

When he was done with the speeder, Bodhi escaped to the ‘fresher, both to clean up and to try and wrestle his thoughts into order. He turned the water up as hot as he could stand it and scrubbed at his skin, turning K-2’s words over and over in his head.

K-2 apparently didn’t have a problem with the concept of Bodhi kissing Cassian. Or of Cassian kissing him back, this time. Without the rain and the cold, Cassian’s lips would be warm. His hands warm too as they touched Bodhi’s face, or slid up under his shirt. Bodhi could sink his fingers into Cassian’s hair, and his shoulders would loosen slightly, the way they did when Kay stroked his hair…

Would Kay touch Cassian when Bodhi kissed him? Metal hands moving over his skin, unerringly finding where he was most sensitive, as Cassian whimpered and kissed Bodhi harder, biting his lower lip. Kay could touch Bodhi too, exploring him, cataloguing all his reactions. 

_Kriff_. Bodhi leant his head against the ‘fresher wall, water pounding his shoulders.

* * *

It was late at night when there was a knock on his door, though it wasn’t like Bodhi was asleep. He set down his datapad and pulled open the door.

Cassian had his careful mask in place, his hair falling into his eyes. His posture was relaxed, but deliberately so. Kay towered behind him, blocking the entire doorway.

“Hey,” said Bodhi, his voice coming out higher than intended. “Um. Hi.” Cassian’s eyes were as heavily shadowed as ever, as though he could do with twelve hours of solid sleep.

Cassian gave him a small half-smile. “Can we talk to you?”

Kriff. Bodhi swallowed and nodded, stepping aside to let them in. His nerves were jangling as he sat down on his bunk, resisting the urge to draw his knees up to his chest.

Cassian pulled the chair away from Bodhi’s work bench to perch on, and Kay just loomed. Cassian glanced at the droid, and for a moment there seemed to be a strange, silent exchange going on, and then Cassian took a deep breath.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said and, when Bodhi began to protest, ploughed on. “No, it’s okay, I get it. I’ve been doing the same thing.”

“Because you are both ridiculous,” said K-2, and Cassian glared at him.

“Shut up, Kay.” The droid made a huffing noise, but fell silent. Cassian turned back to Bodhi. “We’ve had a talk about everything. Bodhi, you caught me off guard, when you kissed me. And then finding out that you knew about us,” he gestured between himself and Kay, “It was a lot, at once. And… complicated, because I was glad. That you’d kissed me.”

Cassian was _blushing_. That was so weird that Bodhi felt compelled to speak. “You were?”

“Yeah. I’ve, um. Wanted to do it for a while now, but I didn’t think you’d be interested. And then all of this…” he sighed, shoving his hair back. “Kay gave me a talking to.”

Bodhi huffed a laugh. “Yeah, me too.”

“Because you could not be trusted to sort this out yourselves,” Kay complained. “It was very frustrating, recording all of your reactions and yet you refused to do anything. Even when my simulations suggested that it would be preferable for everybody.”

“Not all of us can record people’s heart rates in real time,” Cassian pointed out. Then he turned back to Bodhi. “I can’t promise anything,” he said, slowly. “The rebellion comes first, for me. Always.” Beside him, K-2 shifted a little, but he didn’t interrupt. “I don’t know what you… what you would want, Bodhi, but I – like you. And Kay likes you.” He stood up. Bodhi’s mouth was very dry, and all his words seemed to have fled. He could scarcely believe that this was happening. “And I think you like us. Right?”

Cassian was in front of him. His eyes warm. He reached out, slowly, his fingers brushing Bodhi’s cheek. Bodhi didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, just looked up at him, not daring to move or speak in case he broke whatever was happening. Then Cassian took his prosthetic hand and tugged him to his feet; Bodhi stumbled a little, and Cassian caught his upper arms, smiling. 

“Cassian would like to kiss you, Bodhi,” said Kay impatiently. “He is just being very slow.”

A look of fond frustration passed over Cassian’s face, and Bodhi couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay,” he said. “And what would _you_ like?” He really, really hoped he hadn’t misunderstood this. His heart was leaping along like a nervous fathier, his stomach in knots. 

“I’d like you both to get on with it,” said the droid. 

“I guess we’d better,” said Cassian, smiling now, “before he gets too bored.” And he leant forwards, pressing his lips to Bodhi’s.

They _were_ warm, and a little chapped, and heat seemed to rise from Bodhi’s toes through his entire body. Cassian curled a hand around his jaw, tilting his head, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. That did it: Bodhi stepped closer, as close as he could, one arm around Cassian’s waist, other hand in his hair. 

They broke apart, panting a little. Cassian was flushed, eyes bright, and he was the most gorgeous thing Bodhi had ever seen. “Kriff,” he said helplessly, touching Cassian’s cheek. 

“Yeah,” said Cassian. He leant forward again, gave Bodhi a quick, gentle kiss. “Happy, Kay?”

“Your body temperature is elevated,” said K-2, stepping closer to them. “If I adjust my visual input, you appear to be glowing.”

“Is that a yes?” Bodhi asked, unable to stop himself grinning, arms still around Cassian. 

“I think so,” said Cassian, also smiling, his expression desperately tender as he glanced at K-2. “Bodhi,” he hesitated, looking back. “I don’t think we were wrong, when both of us came here. Were we?”

Bodhi looked at him, his lips shiny from kissing, his eyes tired and warm and fond, then at K-2, watching them with a little uncertainty in his stance. Bodhi’s heart felt very full, all of a sudden. “You definitely weren’t wrong,” he said. Unwrapped his organic arm from around Cassian’s waist and reached for Kay.

Kay’s optics whirred a little as he glanced from Bodhi’s hand to his face. Then he gently laid his fingers in Bodhi’s palm and let himself be tugged closer.

“I ran multiple simulations of this scenario,” he said, cool fingers closing carefully around Bodhi’s hand. “I did not have enough data to accurately predict your response, but in sixty-eight percent of my simulations you were… amenable.”

Cassian laughed, ducking his head to kiss Bodhi’s neck, which sent waves of heat through his veins. “I think you can revise that statistic, Kay.”

Bodhi tightened his hand around Kay’s, knowing that was where all of his most delicate sensors were. “Definitely amenable,” he agreed.

Remembering what he’d seen Cassian do, Bodhi raised Kay’s hand to his mouth and kissed his fingertips. The effect was immediate: Kay’s fans kicked up a little, and he said, “_Oh_,” very softly. The taste of metal and the faint trace of oil was a little odd, but not unpleasant at all.

Cassian tangled a hand in Bodhi’s hair, pulling him back towards him so he could kiss him, this time open-mouthed, hungry, a little desperate, and Bodhi couldn’t help the little whine that escaped him. Cassian turned him around slightly, so he was leaning against Kay, huge and solid. Kay’s arms were long enough to wrap about them both, and _stars_, Bodhi had never felt so… safe, as he did right then.

“I have revised my previous calculation,” said Kay. “The likelihood of Bodhi reciprocating is one hundred percent.”

“Yeah it is,” Cassian managed to growl between kisses. “Now stop calculating and come here.” He grabbed Kay’s hand, brought it up between him and Bodhi. Remembering what he’d seen, down in the _Hope_’s cargo hold, Bodhi pressed his lips to Kay’s solid palm. Cassian began to mouth at his fingers, and Kay said, “Oh, oh, yes—” When Bodhi used his tongue, the droid whined, vocabulator glitching a little. A small part of Bodhi’s mind wondered how this felt to Kay, what ‘pleasure’ was to a droid not designed to experience it, no endocrine system, no neurotransmitters... Then Kay said “_Bodhi_,” his voice needy, and he filed those thoughts away for later.

“He likes that,” Cassian gasped, pulling away for a moment. Curled his hand around Kay’s wrist to turn it so he could get to his palm. “There’s a particular sensor right here,” he murmured, and slid his own tongue against a specific spot, making Kay groan. Bodhi watched Cassian lick, desperately turned on, and pulled him into a kiss. Cassian’s moaned into his mouth and they fell into a messy, uncoordinated series of kisses, their mouths and Kay’s fingers, tongues curling together around durasteel digits. 

Bodhi had never been so hard in his whole kriffing life.

“I want you,” Cassian said, and his voice had that dark, heated quality Bodhi had heard down in the cargo hold, but now it was directed at _him_ and he might just burst into flame at any moment. “I want you both.”

“Yes,” Bodhi nodded frantically. “Yes, yes.”

Cassian’s fingers were a little clumsy on his shirt buttons, but eventually he got the thing open and shoved down Bodhi’s shoulders. His calloused hands ran down Bodhi’s chest, curving around his ribs. Bodhi whimpered, needing more, pushing Cassian’s shirt up and off so he could touch his skin, run his fingers over the pale scars. And then Kay’s hand, warm and damp from their ministrations, joined Cassian’s in tracing a path along Bodhi’s torso, fingers tugging lightly at his chest hair, thumb rubbing hard over a nipple, which made Bodhi jerk and moan against Cassian’s mouth.

“Interesting,” said Kay, repeating the motion. “You are much more sensitive here than Cassian. I’m looking forward to cataloguing all of your reactions.”

The idea of Kay building databanks of his reactions, of him running analysis comparing them to Cassian's, sent sparks skittering under Bodhi's skin. He scrabbled at Cassian's belt, yanking it loose and shoving his trousers down his hips, felt Cassian's hand brush against his aching erection as he fumbled with Bodhi's belt. Kay pinched his nipple again and he moaned, hips jerking almost of their own accord.

"Bed," Bodhi gasped. "Or – or something, please…" Kay wouldn't fit in the bed, obviously, and Bodhi did not want to lose contact with either of them for long. 

Kay, thankfully, knew what to do. He dragged Bodhi's bedding from the bunk to the floor, and sat down on it. Cassian kicked off his boots, dragging his trousers the rest of the way off, and Bodhi mouthed hungrily at his throat, tearing at his own clothing, kicking the trousers off when they caught against his foot. 

“Sit down,” Cassian said firmly. “Sit down, let us…” 

Bodhi let himself be pushed down onto the bedding, between K-2’s legs. He pressed a kiss to the droid’s faceplate, enjoying the appreciative hum he received, before Kay’s strong hands curled around his hips and turned him around, his back against K-2’s chest. Cassian stared down at them for a moment, face and chest flushed, a brilliant and obvious bulge in his underwear. He licked his lips.

“Stars,” he said, rough and heated. “I can’t believe this is real.”

“Of course it is,” said Kay impatiently, stroking a hand down Bodhi’s chest to his leg, metal fingertips surprisingly, agonisingly gentle at his inner thigh. “Cassian, come here.”

Cassian yanked off his underwear and stumbled forward, falling to his knees between Bodhi’s legs. Bodhi reached for him, pulled him close, kissed him, wound his arms tight about his lean, strong warmth. Cassian pressed a hand hard against Bodhi’s cock, making him hiss and curse. “Cassian, _kriff_, please—”

Cassian’s mouth was hot and wet, his beard rough, as he kissed down Bodhi’s neck and chest. Kay tugged at Bodhi’s underwear, pushing it down, freeing his aching cock. Hard durasteel fingers wrapped around him, and _stars_ Bodhi was so damn close already. He whimpered, pushing up into Kay’s fist as the droid began to stroke him, gently at first and gradually harder, clearly registering all of Bodhi’s reactions.

“I have entire subroutines dedicated to touching Cassian,” Kay said, his vocabulator pitched low and gentle as Bodhi rocked up into his fist. “I’m looking forward to developing them for you, Bodhi.”

The word ‘subroutines’ should not be that much of a damned turn-on, and yet here they were. Bodhi bit back a groan.

“Kriff.” Cassian pushed himself back a bit, eyes wide and impossibly dark. “You look amazing. Kay, keep doing that.”

Bodhi cursed. “Maybe don’t,” he gritted out, “or I’ll come way too soon.”

Cassian laughed. “Not yet,” he said, leaning in to kiss Bodhi again. “I get it, though. He’s good, huh?”

So, so, so good. Kay was working him with heartbreaking precision, and Bodhi could do nothing but thrust helplessly up against him. And then Cassian’s lips and tongue were back on his chest and working lower, and then Kay said, “I think you should use your mouth, Cassian,” and it was a damn miracle Bodhi didn’t come there and then.

Everything else seemed to stop. Nothing existed except Cassian’s mouth and his hands and his beautifully soft hair, except Kay’s solid weight and clever fingers. Cassian sucked and licked him with utter abandon, and Bodhi moaned so loudly that someone would definitely hear them. He grabbed one of Kay’s hands and lifted it to his lips, sliding two long, metal fingers into his mouth. 

“Oh,” Kay groaned. “Oh, Bodhi – like that, yes, oh—”

Bodhi worked his tongue desperately over Kay’s fingers, loving how it made his voice crackle and break. Cassian moaned around Bodhi’s cock, his eyes fixed on them, the heat of his mouth winding Bodhi tighter and tighter. He was close now, so close, nothing but heat and need rising higher and higher until it crested and broke. He tried to warn Cassian, tugging at his hair, but Cassian’s hands tightened at his hips and he stayed exactly where he was as Bodhi finished, moaning helplessly around Kay’s fingers.

“_Kriff_.” Cassian moved up Bodhi’s body, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his hips, his stomach, his chest. “Look at you, look at you. I want to see you make Kay come, Bodhi. Keep going, he’s close.”

“_Cassian_.” Kay’s voice was so full of static now that he was barely understandable. “Please, please, touch—”

Bodhi’s jaw was aching but he didn’t stop, sliding his tongue between Kay’s fingers, taking him so deep he almost choked. Cassian pressed himself against Bodhi’s chest, his cock blazingly hard against Bodhi’s hip, rutting desperately against him. Bodhi tried to match his movement with clumsy little rocks, reaching his free hand between them to take hold of him. His cock was so slick already, thrusting faster into Bodhi’s fist.

“Yes,” Cassian moaned against Bodhi’s neck. “Yes, yes, Bodhi, I – I’m—” And then he was shuddering and crying out, warmth spilling between them. Kay was chanting Bodhi’s name and Cassian’s over and over, desperate little noises, and then it was like all of his fans and processors kicked up at once, his limbs freezing, vocabulator warbling.

Bodhi pulled his mouth away from Kay’s fingers, gasping. “Is he alright?” he asked, voice coming out rough. “Is that… normal?”

Cassian kissed him, soft and deep all at once, tongue swiping into his mouth. “He’s great,” he said. “He’s rebooting.”

Bodhi gave a shaky laugh. So orgasm, for a droid, was overclocking to the point of shutdown.

“Everything is within normal parameters,” said Kay, unfreezing and running gentle fingers down Bodhi’s face. “Thank you, Bodhi.”

Bodhi kissed his palm. “I should be thanking you,” he said, feeling warm and peaceful and tired. “I wouldn’t have ever done this if you hadn’t…”

“Yes, well, no organic would ever get anything done without droids,” said Kay, but his gentle touch belied his words, stroking Bodhi’s chest and Cassian’s hair. 

“You’re a genius, we know,” said Cassian, heavy-voiced where he had settled against Bodhi’s chest. 

“I’m glad you understand.”

It was oddly comfortable, half-propped against Kay with Cassian sprawled against his chest, and Bodhi soon found himself drifting in a peaceful little haze. Kay began to comb long fingers lightly through Bodhi’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp, sending waves of pleasure down his spine. He didn’t realise he’d made a sound until Cassian stirred and mumbled, “Whatever you’re doing, Kay, it’s working.”

“It is interesting,” murmured Kay, vocabulator quieter than normal. “You both react to having your hair touched, but your physical responses are different.” He increased the pressure of his scratches against Bodhi’s skull, and Bodhi leaned into his hand like a loth-cat seeking more fuss.

He could have stayed there for hours, and he could feel Cassian’s breathing deepening as he slipped towards sleep, but before long Kay roused them. “You will get cold,” he said firmly. “And you should clean up. Organics are so messy.”

“We are,” Bodhi agreed. 

“But you choose to have sex with us anyway,” said Cassian, voice thick with tiredness as he sat up and ran a hand through his tousled hair. 

“I have calculated that the tradeoffs are worth it,” said Kay. 

Bodhi very badly wanted them to stay. He wanted to sleep curled around Cassian’s warmth. Wanted to know that Kay’s huge, comforting presence was nearby. He didn’t know how to ask, though. They needed to be careful, after all. He remembered what Cassian had said about Kay being scrapped with a fresh sense of horror.

He cleaned the worst of the mess off with his discarded shirt and pulled his crumpled trousers back on, not meeting Cassian’s eyes but very aware of his every movement, of how much he wanted to touch him, to kiss him again. Kay was putting his bunk back together, fussing with the blankets. Silence bloomed between them like a physical barrier. Bodhi wrapped his arms around himself, his prosthetic hand cool against his ribs.

A gentle touch at his jaw, Cassian’s fingertips running through his beard. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” he said too quickly. Cassian frowned, two little lines appearing between his brows. Bodhi wanted to smooth them away. “I don’t want you to go,” he blurted, hoping it didn’t sound too needy.

Cassian’s lips tilted slightly, and he glanced back at Kay’s looming form. “Do you need to charge?”

Kay’s optics dimmed for a brief moment. “I have enough charge for the next fourteen hours, if I go into low power tonight. I would like to stay.”

The tangle in Bodhi’s chest unknotted, and he felt a smile spread over his face. “Good,” he said, fervent. Kissed Cassian, clumsy and tender. “Good.”

* * *

Kay was already in the pilot’s seat when Bodhi climbed aboard the _Rogue’s Hope_ a week later. Cassian was leaning against the droid’s shoulder, talking quietly, his fingers gently tracing the curve of Kay’s upper-arm. When he heard Bodhi’s footsteps he turned, and smiled, tired and genuine. Bodhi’s heart lifted at the sight, at the knowledge that they allowed him to see these quiet moments.

It still felt rather daring, stealing a kiss from Cassian as he slipped past him, but Cassian just smiled a little wider and kissed him back. When Bodhi sat down, Kay reached across and touched his face, just resting the pads of his fingers against his cheek. Bodhi curled his own metal fingers around Kay’s wrist, turned his head to kiss his palm.

“Ready to go?” Cassian asked, still leaning over the back of Kay’s chair, giving his chestplate a gentle pat.

Grinning, new happiness unfurling in his chest, Bodhi turned to the _Hope_’s control panel and initiated the takeoff sequence. “Ready as ever.”


End file.
